


Wayward Whatever

by Wonderlandleighleigh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/F, Gen, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonderlandleighleigh/pseuds/Wonderlandleighleigh
Summary: Claire, Kaia, Jody and Donna start piecing together what happened to the Winchesters after 15x20, and at the same time, Jody stumbles upon a little boy, no older than four, who reminds her suspiciously of a pie-eating demon hunter she used to know...
Relationships: Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me where the hell this is going, because I don't know.

“Oookay. So Claire is officially off the reservation.” 

Kaia Nieves watches as her girlfriend - her beautiful, smart, crazy, funny, slightly broken girlfriend - hefts a sledge hammer, steadying herself to bring it down on the large, seemingly impenetrable door. 

“Get her back here, Kaia, nothing she tries is gonna open that door, it’s mystically sealed,” Jody says. “Besides, Donna has a spare key.” 

Kaia narrows her eyes and sheer, utter annoyance. “Then why the hell hasn’t anybody done a wellness check?” 

She hears Jody’s sad intake of breath, and she knows. Jody doesn’t have to say it, but she does anyway. 

“Honestly? Donna and I were too chicken shit scared about what we’d find down there,” the older woman says quietly. “But Claire is Claire, and if she’s dead-set on knowing, then...then get her back here for the key.” 

Kaia nods as she watches Claire bring the sledge hammer down on the door to no effect. She howls, high and angry. 

“yep . We’re on our way.” 

***** 

Claire barely gets out of the car. She snags the key and is back in, leaving Jody, Donna and even Kaia in the driveway of Jody’s house. 

“Do we follow her?” Donna asks worriedly. 

“I think she needs to do this one on her own,” Jody tells them sadly. She wraps an arm around Kaia, guiding her into the house. “It’s cold out. Let’s get you some coffee, huh?” 

Kaia gives a vague nod, but glances back out at the road, listening to the roar of Claire’s engine as it fades off into the distance. 

***** 

Claire stumbles into the bunker and into pitch black. When she flicks the lights on, she coughs a little at the dust rises from the switch, and dashes down the metal stairs. 

She freezes, looking around, and for the first time it hits her that she might stumble upon a dead body or two, and braces herself accordingly. 

Slowly, methodically, she wanders through. The library, the garage, the kitchen, the basement, the shooting range...she saves the bedrooms for last, opting for Sam’s first. 

It hits her in the face just how empty the room feels. Of the things that made this room Sam Winchester’s room are gone. There are no clothes left in the closet, no toiletries in the bathroom...All of the books and DVD’s Claire remembers him stashing in his duffel bag disappeared. 

There is not a trace of Sam Winchester in this room. 

Dean’s room is an entirely different story. 

All of his things are still there, as if he’d be back for them soon; as if he’d just gone out on a hunt and would be home any minute. Records, books, all of his clothes...even a stack of aging photos on the nightstand. 

Claire sits on the bed as realization slams into her. 

Dean Winchester had died.

Sam Winchester had abandoned the Bunker - and everyone he knew - to start over. 

She sits in shocked silence for a long moment, until a noise from the closet startles her. Claire hops to her feet, and stumbles over, tripping on a couple of dog food bowls, before pushing it open to find - 

Nothing. 

Nothing but Dean’s old clothes. Flannel shirts, denim shirts, jeans…

And an aging brown leather jacket, fallen off its hanger and onto the floor...which would explain the noise. 

She picks it up and holds it in her arms, fighting to hold back her tears. 

“This is mine now,” she says to nobody. 

*****  
Jody gets a call just as she gets the text from Claire: 

_Sam fucked off. Dean’s prob dead._

She answers the call even as she sits slowly, unable to stand at the confirmation that at least one of the boys had likely died; grief and guilt swirling in her belly.

“Sheriff Mills,” her voice cracks.

“Sheriff, we got a call about a little kid wandering around up by old Singer Salvage, can’t be more n’ for or five years old,” the deputy tells her. “We know you said to keep clear of that place, so I figured if you wanted to handle it…” 

“Yeah,” Jody says quickly. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

It takes her a moment to get to her feet and head out the door, but she manages it, a few tears dripping down that she wipes away quickly. No use showin’ up to help a scared little kid when you’re that much of a wreck, so she sucks it up - at least for now - and makes the drive to the edge of town. 

It’s been snowing lately, and so the road’s on the icy side, but she manages, and when she parks, just below the old Singer Salvage sign, she allows herself just a little regret, before taking a deep breath and getting out of the car. 

The gravel’s crunchy below her boots with snow and slush, and she looks around, frowning, watching for signs of movement between the abandoned cars. 

A blond little head pops out from behind a broke-down GTO, and she moves slowly towards it. “Hi, there,” she says gently. “You okay, honey?” 

He backs away, stumbling a little, over what Jody realizes are worn-down Chuck Taylors; laces untied, white parts covered in mud. 

His clothes, too, are on the ratty side. A hold in the knee of his jeans, and his long-sleeved blue shirt ripped at the ends of the sleeves. 

Jody takes a breath and kneels down to his height. “It’s okay. I’m here to help. You musta gotten real lost, huh?” 

The little boy nods, but doesn’t respond or move. 

“My name’s Jody,” she tells him. “I’m the town sheriff, I’m with the police.” From her pocket, she pulls out her badge, waving it for him to see, glinting in the reflection of the snow. “I’ve got a blanket in my car...we can get you warmed up and go down to the station. See if we can find your…” 

As the boy slowly walks closer, his features come into view. A sweet face, and big, green eyes that look warily around him; obviously nervous and scared. 

“...Mom,” Jody finishes quietly. When the boy comes within arm’s reach, she reaches out instinctively and rubs his arms to warm him up.

His eyes look away from her, down at the snow, his face going more sad than scared; the look of a little boy who doesn’t have a mother anymore. 

Jody takes a deep breath and tries to smile and catch his eyes. “What’s your name?” 

The little boy reaches up and tugs the collar of his shirt over his mouth before answering. 

“Dean,” he tells her in a tiny, muffled voice. 

_‘Son of a bitch, I was afraid you’d say that,’_ Jody thinks, before standing up, doing her best to keep her cool. 

She wraps an arm around his little shoulders and guides him towards the car. “That’s a real nice name. Let’s get you warmed up.” 

_‘What the hell is going on?’_


	2. Chapter 2

“Social Services is slammed, Sheriff, you know how it is during the holidays,” the rep tells her over the phone as she sits at her desk at the station. 

Across from her, the little boy sits wrapped up in the blanket from her car, looking around warily at his surroundings, as if they may jump out at him at any moment. 

“Well, he hasn’t spoken a single word except his first name since I found him,” Jody tells the man. “Without a last name, or the name of his parents, I got no hope of finding out where he’s supposed to be.”

“Like I said, we’re slammed until after the holidays, and there aren’t any open beds at the group home.” 

Jody rubs one eye wearily. “Okay...so...well...I got room at my place. He can stay with me until we can figure something out.” 

The rep jumps at the suggestion. “That’s great! I’ll send the paperwork over, naming you as his temporary guardian. Fill ‘em out, sign it and send it back.” 

Jody nods. “Okay, then. Thanks for your help.” She hangs up and looks at the kid again, giving him a tired smile. “Looks like you’re gonna stay with me for a little while, Dean. That sound okay?” 

She gets a noncommittal shrug in return. 

Nodding, she gets up and kneels down in front of him. “You know, I know all of this is really scary, but you can talk to me.” 

Big green eyes stare back at her for a long moment before he speaks. 

“I miss mommy.” 

Jody takes a deep breath and nods. “And what was her name? Was it...Betty?” 

Dean shakes his head. 

Jody grins and reaches out, poking him playfully through the blanket to tickle him gently. “Was it...Big Bertha?” 

He giggles and squirms. “No! Her name was Mary.” 

Another checkmark in the uncanny similarity column. 

“That’s a real nice name,” Jody tells him. “Where is she now?” 

Dean stops talking again, burying himself inside the blanket completely so she can’t see him. 

Jody sighs softly and pats the top of his head through the blanket. “Okay, kiddo. Let’s get you home.” 

***** 

“You’re not going fast enough.” 

Donna rolls her eyes just a little. She’s set up with her work laptop at Jody’s dining room table as the younger woman paces back and forth in front of her. “Claire, I am going as fast as I can, but the database can only do so much. This isn’t CSI Miami.” 

“Sam Winchester is out there,” Claire argues. “And I wanna know where so I can punch him in his stupid, befuddled face.” 

From the couch, Kaia reaches out, taking Claire’s arm, and tugging her to sit down. “Look, I get that you’re pissed, and sad, but don’t you think this is a little extreme?” 

“Dean died!” Claire blurts out. “We don’t know when or how, but he died. He’s dead, and nobody told us! Cas didn’t tell us, Sam didn’t tell us. Why didn’t we deserve to know? Why wasn’t I - why weren’t we high up enough on the phone tree, huh? I thought they considered us family. So much for that.” 

Kaia frowns and strokes her hair gently, before looking over at Donna worriedly. 

“The boys used so many aliases over the years it’s hard to say if we’ll ever find Sam,” Donna admits softly. “Legally Sam and Dean Winchester have been dead for a long time. A few times over. They existed completely off the map. Anything that exists in their given names is completely outta date. One time I got a look at Dean’s social services record, and holy mama, that thing was as big as War and Peace.” 

The door opens and closes and Jody steps in with a mass of blanket and legs in her arms. “Look for Sam Antilles. That was a big favorite of his.” 

“I’ll bite,” Kaia snorts. “What are you carrying?” 

Jody ignores her, instead turning to Donna. “Kitchen. Now.” 

“She’s busy,” Claire snaps. 

“I’ll be right back, Claire, just...take some deep breaths or something,” Donna tells her as she stands and follows Jody to the kitchen. She watches the older woman settle the blankets - which clearly hold a small child - on the kitchen counter. “Okay, Jodes, I’ll bite. What’s goin-” 

She doesn’t get a chance to finish, as the blanket falls from the boy’s head, revealing shaggy blond hair and big green eyes. His freckled face looks tired and nervous. 

Donna shivers a little as she looks at the little boy. “I feel like somebody just did the rumba on top of my grave.” 

“Donna, this is Dean. Dean, this is Donna. She’s a sheriff, too.” 

Dean waves shyly and does his best to hide back into the blanket. 

“Social services are packed,” Jody explains quietly. “They always are over the holidays, so he’s gonna be staying with us.” 

Donna blinks and looks from Dean to her friend. “Jodes...Jodes, this is-” 

“It’s not.” 

“But-” 

Jody grabs her friend by the shoulder, pulling her out of Dean’s earshot. “As far as we know, Dean died in his forties. There’s no way-” 

“Like stranger things haven’t happened?” Donna cuts in. “Do you know anything else about him?” 

Jody grimaces. “Says his mother’s name was Mary.” 

Donna huffs and throws her hands up. “Jody. Whatever is goin’ on, that’s Dean. Look at ‘im. The hair, the big Winchester eyes, the freckles, that’s baby Dean Winchester.” 

“So what the hell do you think happened? Sam thought he died, but he was really de-aged? That makes no sense. You think Sam had a de-aged Dean and the kid ran away? That doesn’t make sense either,” Jody rambles. 

“We could always ask,” Donna shrugs. 

“Who, the kid? He’s not talking,” Jody says. 

“No, I mean - I mean we could - I mean with any luck Cas is still out there, right?” Donna asks. “Pray to Cas, get some answers.” 

“You do it,” Jody snaps. 

Donna watches her friend for a long moment before reaching out for her hand, squeezing it gently. “I know this is tough.” 

Jody doesn’t look at her. “He doesn’t look anything like Owen,” she mutters. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“You treated those boys like they were your own,” Donna surmises. “And now one of ‘em’s...here. And practically a baby. And your mom brain is losing its damn mind.” 

“GOT YOU, YOU ASSHOLE!” 

Both women jump and Donna rushes to the door of the kitchen just in time to see Claire heading for the door with Kaia chasing after her. 

“Claire, wait-” 

“For what?!” Claire asks, bewildered. “Branstad Wisconsin. He’s in Branstad.” 

“You’re not leaving me in the dust this time,” Kaia snaps, tugging on her arm. “Let me come with you.” 

“Fine,” Claire says hurriedly as she grabs her coat. “If you’re coming, then you’re coming.” 

“What’re you gonna do when you find him?” Jody asks. “Beat him up? Kill him? None of that will fix this, Claire.” 

“I want one good punch,” Claire tells her. “And then I want answers.” 

They watch the two younger women rush out the door, and as it slams, Jody pulls out her phone. 

“Branstad’s not far from Garth,” she says, dialing his number. “Get me the address off the screen, maybe he can keep Sam and Claire from going nuclear on each other. If Dean really did die, Sam’s probably lost his mind at least a little.” 

*****   
Garth Fitzgerald the IV bursts into tears when he hangs up the phone. He has a hard, snotty cry; a good twenty minutes, before cleaning himself up with a dish towel and a few splashes of water on his face from his kitchen sink. 

Bess watches from the door worriedly, wringing her hands. “Garth? Honey?” 

“I’m okay,” he nods, swallowing and then taking a breath. “Dean Winchester died.” 

She’s at his side in a matter of seconds, her arms wrapped around him. 

“Sam’s livin’ in the next town over, hiding, probably,” Garth tells her. “Claire’s on her way to confront him. I promised Jody I’d try to head her off at the pass...try to talk her down.” 

“Even though you’d like to punch Sam yourself, for not calling you?” Bess asks, her face sympathetic. 

“That’s a different problem,” Garth tells her. “And punchin’ your friends hardly ever helps anything.” He pulls away from her and rubs her arms gently. “Gonna go kiss the kids, and then head out. I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up.”


	3. Chapter 3

_**Quite a few years ago now, in a dive bar somewhere in Tennessee** _

_Garth is drunk._

_Garth is drunk drunk didliunk dunk, and beside him, so is Dean Winchester. Dean’s a big guy who drinks a lot, so it takes a lot to get him drunk and they are both just -_

_“How many sheets to the wind does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop?” Garth asks with a high giggle._

_Dean snorts, a little whiskey dribbling out of his nose and back into his glass. “What?!”_

_“I don’t know man, everything feels chartreuse!”_

_Dean sits back heavily, pointing at Garth. “Y’know, I’m glad we’re friends. I feel like- I feel like you’d make my life miserable in really weird, unsettling ways if we weren’t.”_

_“Pee in your shower.”_

_“What?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Okay,” Dean nods, swigging back more alcohol._

_“Y’know, I’m glad you said we’re friends,” Garth tells him, leaning forward, face resting on his fist. “We are friends. Y’know. And friends...friends talk to each other about stuff and things and life.”_

_Dean stares at him, before grabbing the whiskey bottle and refreshing his glass. “Like what?”_

_“Like- like anything. Like about your childhood!”_

_“I watched my mother burn alive on a ceiling and then spent the next year completely unable to say a word, and then learned to shoot a gun and hunt monsters,” Dean blurts out. “Next?”_

_“Wait-” Garth sits up straight and nearly falls out of his chair. “You watched what?! You- your mom on a-”_

_“I said next.”_

_*****  
 **Now**_

Garth sits in his car, watching the dark little apartment complex as rain dribbles down onto his windshield. 

“I don’t know if anybody’s listening,” Garth says softly. "I wish I’d gotten to say g’bye to Dean. To tell him how...how brave and how- how kind I always thought he was. I mean he could be a dick for sure, but - you know. And other hunters talked about him...makin’ him seem like some bloodthirsty killer...a monster. And I knew that wasn’t him. And Bobby knew. When other hunters would talk like that, Bobby would- well he’d say ‘don’t you talk about that kid like that. He’s better’n all of you idjits.’ He was real proud.” He takes a breath and wipes his eyes a little. “I’m uh...I’m rambling, but...Ah, hell, I just wish I’d had more time with the guy. Loved him like family.” 

He takes another deep breath as he watches Claire’s car pull up.

*****   
Kaia locks the car door before Claire can jump out. When Claire unlocks it, Kaia does it again. They go back and forth this way for a solid twenty seconds before Claire whips her head around. 

"What the hell, Kaia!"

"Would it kill you to take a deep breath before you go in there guns blazing at a messed up old guy who just lost his brother like eight months ago?"

Claire shakes her head. "They abandoned us!"

"They abandoned you," Kaia corrects. "You're the one with the big ties to these people. Castiel wears your dad's face, Dean and Sam tried to help you. You're hurting and you're running on rage."

"So what?"

"So the more angry you are, the worse you're gonna make this for yourself," Kaia tells her. "Don't you know that by now?"

Claire slumps back in her seat, into the oversized leather jacket. "You don't get it." 

"I'll never fully get it," Kaia agrees. "Just like you'll never fully get what the Bad Place was like."

The two of them stare at each other for a long moment, and both Yelp when someone taps at Claire's window. 

She rolls it down and narrows her eyes up at Garth. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Jody called," he explains. "But truthfully? Same as you. Answers." 

*****   
“I’m sorry, run that by me one more time,” Bobby Singer says, narrowing his eyes at the Angel of Thursday. “I thought I heard you say you lost Dean.” 

Castiel, for his part, looks almost frantic. He raises his trench-coated arms in the air, drops them and rubs his face. “Dean is not in heaven anymore.” 

Charlie’s eyes widen as she gets up from her stool. Heaven’s version of Harvelle’s is a total dive. She assumes it’s the same as it was on earth, though she never saw the original. “Then where is he?” 

“If he knew, he wouldn’t be here,” Jo snorts, leaning on the bar. “But then, he ain’t been here at all. Even before Dean got here, he was MIA.” 

“I was busy,” Castiel snaps. “Heaven took a lot of work to overhaul. Jack couldn’t do it alone. He needed my help.” 

“Whatever happened to Dean, I’m sure it’s not your fault, Cas,” Mary says, walking up to him. “We’ll find him.” 

Ellen nods in agreement, before turning to the mulleted man at the end of the bar. “Get on it, Ash. He’s gotta be somewhere.” 

“Anyone checked downstairs with Rowena?” Charlie asks. 

“What reason would Rowena have for taking Dean from heaven?” Castiel asks, frowning. 

“She’s the queen of hell, does she need a reason?” Jo asks. 

“Even if she didn’t do it, she might have some more information,” Charlie says. “I’ll check with her.”

“Alone?” Bobby asks, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t think so, kid. I’m comin’ with.” 

“Fine,” Charlie huffs. “But if you salt my game with the queen of hell, I’m gonna be grumpy.” 

“We’ll find Dean, Cas,” Mary promises. 

Castiel nods, but stops, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “I’ll be back.” 

He disappears, leaving the rest of Harvelle’s to stare at the place he stood curiously. 

“Oh, you ain’t gonna believe this one, Ellen,” Ash says. “I found Dean. And he uh...he ain’t quite the Dean we remember.” 

***** 

Becky Rosen takes a deep, cleansing breath, her eyes closed; trying to center herself, just like her meditation app tells her to. 

She hadn’t expected company, and she’d been wary of letting company in ever since Chuck…

Well. That was a while ago now, and her therapist says that she’s making great progress. And all that matters is that she’s back and Rod and the kids are back, too. 

But she should have known that this would never be over. 

Because the author of the Supernatural musical, Marie, is pacing her living room at eleven pm. 

“Tell me one more time what you did.” 

Marie turns to her, deadpanned. “Played with magic and maybe brought Dean Winchester back from the dead.” 

Becky takes in another breath, sharper this time. “Marie.” 

“I just- the script you showed me! And- the idea that Dean had died that way is just- that’s not how it ends! It can’t be how it ends!” 

“We don’t control that,” Becky tells her slowly. “It’s not up to us. Their lives are not up to us.” 

“It wasn’t fair!” Marie yells. 

“Ssshhhh, the kids are asleep,” Becky scolds, before putting up her hands. 

“I didn’t even think it worked,” Marie says. “I mean. It couldn’t have worked, but...but I found maggots in my chicken salad sandwich yesterday, so...” 

Becky taps her fingers on her desk, thinking about all the things that shouldn’t have worked. That shouldn’t have happened. She thinks maybe contacting Marie about her plans for the musical was a bad idea; that getting in too deep with the nineteen year old had been a mistake. 

She had been overly excited to meet someone else who knew the Winchesters.

“Look,” Marie goes on. “You showed me that script that Chuck had left behind and the thought of...of the boys having an ending like that...it’s not right. It can’t be right. And then...and then…” 

“Sam’s text,” Becky says gently. 

“‘Dean’s dead, lose my number,’ what the hell kind of response is that?!” 

“The response of a man I terrorized really hard,” Becky tells her honestly. “Marie, look, I know it’s easy to think of Sam and Dean as just the guys in the books, but they are real people, and you’re playing with their lives, and that’s wrong. It’s wrong. It took me so long to get that, but-” 

“I know! I mean- I just-” 

“You don’t know, or else you wouldn’t have done this,” Becky tells her. “And I’ve been where you are. But whatever you did, we have to figure out a way to undo it, because if it really did work, then it’s likely Dean came back wrong, and now you owe some creepy demon like your soul or something.” 

“What?!” 

Becky scoffs. “That’s how witchcraft works. This isn’t Harry Potter. This is real life. Now show me the spell.” 

*****

“Okay-dokey,” Donna breathes out as she steps out into Jody’s small backyard. Dean is sleeping on the couch, exhausted after a long and stressful day, with a full belly of Kraft Mac n Cheese, and Jody is inside doing some research on rebirth and reincarnation, digging through the dusty old boxes of Bobby’s old books. 

The original Bobby at least. Jody is pretty gung-ho on steering clear of the one from an alternate universe. Says it’s just too weird.

As for Donna, she grabs a lawn chair and wipes it off a little with her sleeve before taking a seat and clasping her hands. “I don’t really know how this is supposed to work. I haven’t prayed outside church since I was a little kid, so...if this is a little messy, big sorry in advance.” 

She lets out another long breath, watching it billow in the cold. “Hi, Castiel. It’s- It’s Donna Hanscum. We didn’t know each other too well, but- but I’m- I guess I was...friends with the Winchester boys. Sam an’ Dean helped me out of a few jams, I helped them. Dean an’ I shared a few burgers...They were real pals. But things have gone a little haywire lately, ya know? They disappeared and- and we found out the hard way that Dean died and that Sam just...well, we don’t know. Claire an’ Kaia are on their way to see him, and Garth’s gonna be there. I tried texting Eileen, but she’s not answering. I think we’re all a little lost. We could use a leg up, if you got one to spare. Anyway...uh...good talkin’ to ya. Bye now.” 

She closes her eyes and listens to the crickets chirp around her for a long moment before getting to her feet and heading towards the door.

The loud flap of wings makes her stop, and when she turns, Castiel is standing behind her.

“Where are Sam and Dean Winchester?”


	4. Chapter 4

“And why, pray-tell, would I know where Dean Winchester is?” Rowena asks, lounging back on her throne.

“Because you’re the queen of hell,” Bobby says matter-of-factly. “And they sorta trusted you. Ain’t no way you’re not keeping tabs on them.” 

“Respectfully,” Charlie adds, giving the other redhead a slightly teasing grin. 

Rowena huffs out a breath and stands, sauntering over to them and taking Charlie’s hands in hers. “We didn’t get on that well, but I was quite sad about how things ended for you. It is good to see you again, Charlie.” 

“I mean...look at you,” Charlie shrugs. “You rule hell. That’s pretty bad-ass.” 

Rowena smirks a little, an eyebrow quirking. “It is quite bad-ass, isn’t it?” she sighs slowly and wanders back to her throne. “The truth is, I don’t know where Dean is. But...I do know that someone on earth cast a spell to bring him back.” 

“Who?” Bobby asks. 

Rowena gives a derisive snort. “Some no-name. Not even a witch. Just a little fangirl, I think. Someone who read Chuck’s dreadful books. Which I wasn’t ever even in, by the way.” 

“Me neither,” Charlie says. “Woulda been cool though.” 

“Believe me, it ain’t that cool,” Bobby grumbles. 

Charlie thinks for a moment. “How would she have known that Dean died? Chuck was defeated. A finale to the series would never have been published. Although Sam told me all about Becky, so...” 

“How do we find the kid who did this?” Bobby asks.

“You’re both dead,” Rowena shrugs. “And residents of heaven, I might add. You don’t have to worry about these things anymore. Let management deal with it. I’m sure Castiel is looking as we speak. Poor angel’s lost his boyfriend again, after all, he must be beside himself.” 

“We’re working on it,” Charlie tells her. “Can we count on your help with this?” 

Rowena yawns and stretches. “I’ll think about it.” 

*****   
“What if he’s not home?” Claire asks as they stand at the door to Sam Winchester’s apartment. 

Kaia had opted to wait in the car, and Claire doesn’t blame her. This entire situation is an enormous mess, and in some ways, she feels guilty for dragging her girlfriend into it.

“Then we wait for him to get home,” Garth tells her simply. 

Claire nods and swallows. “What if he is home?” 

“Then we gotta be brave,” Garth says gently, patting her shoulder. He closes his eyes for just a second before knocking on the door. 

It takes a moment, but it opens, and before them is most definitely Sam Winchester. His hair is a little longer, and less cared-for. His clothes are slightly too-loose on him, and his face is drawn. It’s clear he’s been mostly living on whiskey. 

“Hi Sam,” Garth says. 

The door starts to swing shut, but Claire anticipates it quickly, and uses a steel-toed boot to kick it back open. “Nope.” 

“Leave,” Sam tells them simply. “Just- leave.” 

“We just wanna talk,” Garth tells him. “I mean - Claire wants to punch you a little, but mostly, we just wanna talk.” 

“There’s nothing to say,” Sam snaps. “There’s nothing- There’s nothing to say.” 

“Bullshit,” Claire blurts out. “That’s bullshit. You owe us-” 

“I don’t owe anyone anything, and the one person I did owe, I let die,” Sam tells them, stumbling over his words. “I am try-” he stops, swallowing. “I’m trying to move on. Like he wanted me to. Now leave me alone.” 

A deeply horrified look passes over Garth’s face. “Sam. You can’t really think that this is what Dean woulda wanted. You, cut off from your friends- your family?” 

“You’re not my family,” Sam snarls. “He was.” 

“You’re hurting,” Garth says as he holds his arm up to stop Claire from lunging. “And I get it. Now that we know that your brother died, we all are. But we can help each other. It doesn’t have to be this way.” 

Sam swallows, thinking that over for a long moment, and a stale silence hangs in the air. 

It takes him another moment, but he steps aside, and lets them into the sparse apartment. 

***** 

“So?” Jody asks, wringing her hands as she, Donna and Castiel look down at the little boy asleep on the couch. “Is it him?” 

Castiel kneels down and carefully rests a hand on the back of his head, nodding slowly. “It is. Someone has brought Dean back to life...but brought him back as a small child. Why?” 

“Ten bucks says it was an accident,” Donna says. “I mean this stinks of somebody who never did magic before, doesn’t it?” 

“You’re not wrong,” Jody comments, before turning to Castiel again. “So? What do we do?” 

“It’s a spell, or...or a curse,” Castiel admits, getting to his feet. “ I can’t fix this. We’ll need to find out who did it.” 

“And until then?” Donna asks. 

“Until then, I guess...I guess we have a four-year-old to take care of,” Jody says. 

“Does he remember anything?” Castiel asks. 

“Just Mary’s death, I think,” Jody responds. “He hasn’t mentioned Sam or their dad yet.” 

“He likely won’t mention John too much,” Castiel surmises grimly. “If he remembers Mary’s death then that relationship has become strained. Which is putting it lightly from what I could gather.” 

Donna bites her lip. “Maybe you could bring Mary back for a little while,” she suggests. “Just until we figure this out.” 

“We got this covered,” Jody interjects. “Mary’s been through enough.” 

Donna tilts her head at Jody and frowns. “Jodes…” 

“We got this,” Jody repeats. 

“Isn’t he just the sweetest little thing?” 

The three of them turn, finding Rowena standing behind them, looking delighted as she nudges past them to sit on the couch, brushing Dean’s hair away from his face.

“Much cuter than Fergus was,” Rowena tells them. “Mary really did have very handsome children. It’s too bad he grows up to be such a meathead.” 

“Get away from him, Rowena,” Jody says exhaustedly. 

Instead of listening, the queen of hell settles back on the couch with the sleeping boy still next to her. “So yes. It’s a curse that some fangirl cast, trying to bring Dean back to life.” 

“Becky,” Castiel groans. 

“Possibly,” Rowena shrugs. 

“We should find her,” Donna says. 

“Why?” Rowena asks. “Why would you want to turn him back?” 

“What are you jabberin’ about, of course we want to turn him back,” Donna tells her. 

“If you break the curse, he goes back to being dead,” Rowena reminds her simply. “You keep him like this, it’s a second chance. To grow up without everything that made his life miserable. No having to raise his baby brother...no...drunken, rage-filled shell of a father...no forty years in hell. No Mark of Cain. A real life.” 

Silence falls over the room for a good long moment, until Jody swallows. “I need some air.” 

Donna turns to her, a warning in her voice. “Jodes.” 

“I need air!” the other woman yells, before stalking to the door and storming out, slamming it behind her. The noise jolts Dean to wakefulness, and he looks up at the adults surrounding him nervously, curling in on himself. 

Castiel watches her go, and sighs sadly. “She’s struggling.” 

“She sure is,” Donna agrees.


	5. Chapter 5

He thinks maybe, just maybe, if he stays hidden in the blankets for long enough, he’ll wake up and all of this will be okay.

When he opens his eyes next, Daddy and Sammy will be here and everything will be…

Not alright. Because nothing’s been alright since Mommy died in November. But...back to the way it was. He won’t be surrounded by strangers. 

He takes a big, deep breath though, because he has to be brave. He’s almost five, after all. He’ll be five in a month, and he has to be brave. 

It’s just hard. 

“Dean.” 

The voice calling his name is calm and lilting, and when he peeks out from the blanket, it’s the find the redheaded woman still sitting next to him, smiling at him. 

“Would you like to see a magic trick?” she asks. 

“Rowena, leave him be,” the deep voice of the man in the tan trenchcoat says. Dean peeks up at him next, and immediately feels a little safer with him in the room. 

The man takes a breath and kneels down in front of him. “Hello, Dean. Are you alright?” 

Dean says nothing. He ran out of words a month ago when the fire happened. Before he’d broke and said his mother’s name, the last words he’d said were to his father: 

_“What happened to mommy?”_

He’d received no answer. Just a look that had made his whole body feel cold. 

Dean didn’t know what to say after that. So he’d said nothing. 

The man huffs out a soft breath. “I know that this is very scary for you. But I want you to know that you’re safe here. Everyone here will take care of you.” 

What about Daddy, he wants to ask.

_What about Sammy?_

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he reaches out and tugs on the man’s coat.

The man grins a little, and Dean thinks maybe things will be okay.

Maybe.

***** 

It’s hard for Garth to sit in Sam’s sparse, sad little apartment and listen to the man stumble through the story of his brother’s death. 

A “milk run.” 

“Something out of Dad’s old cases.” 

“It was just some vampires.” 

Garth takes it in, sparing a glance every so often for Claire, whose face is pale, and clearly angry. He swallows and promises himself he’ll talk to her later. Really sit down and have a good long chat about all that anger that sits inside of her chest, ready to explode at any minute. 

“-And I j-” Sam stops and swallows. “I just stood there and-and watched. He...he said all these things and I just-” he stops again, looking off into the distance past Garth and Claire. “Why did I just stand there? Why didn’t I go get help? Why-why did I...he’s had these-He’s always been this way, been...determined that he’d die on some hunt or another and I promised myself that I wouldn’t let that happen but in the end, I just-I let it happen. And I don’t know why. It wasn’t his time.” 

Garth listens to those words. Really listens to the heartbreak and disbelief in Sam’s voice. 

It’s then that it hits him.

Garth isn’t just listening to Sam as a friend, helping out a grieving loved one. He’s listening as if he were working a case. Because none of this sounds right. All of this sounds, in fact, completely wrong in so many ways. 

“Sam,” Garth says carefully. “What happened in the end. With Chuck I mean?” 

Sam takes a breath and rubs at his eyes. “Uh...we...we beat him. We...Jack syphoned all of his god powers and...and we left Chuck on the side of the road.” 

“You didn’t kill the bastard?” Claire snaps. 

“It’s not who we are,” Sam says automatically. “It’s- it’s not who Dean was. We left him powerless, that was enough.” 

Garth and Claire glance at each other worriedly, before Claire takes a deep breath. 

“And you don’t think maybe - even without god powers - Chuck would find a way to make you pay for what you did?” 

Sam swallows, looking bewildered suddenly. 

“Come on, Sam,” Garth says gently. “You beat god. You don’t think he might be a little salty about that? And there are a thousand spells or...or whatever. Crossroads demons...all sortsa things Chuck coulda done to get whatever ending he wanted for you.” 

Sam stares at them, realization dawning on his face, and then pure anger.

“Fuck.” 

***** 

Donna sighs deeply, stopping her trek to the front door when her phone buzzes. She pulls it out and frowns at the number she doesn’t recognize. 

“This is Sheriff Hanscum.” 

The voice on the other end is a little nervous; a little high pitched.

“Uhm. Hi. Hi, Sheriff. My- I’m Becky Rosen. I’m-” she huffs. “I wouldn’t say I’m a friend of the Winchesters, but- uh...I know them. Knew them.” 

Donna narrows her eyes. “Uh…” 

“Look, I think my friend may have done some witchcraft and uh...accidentally brought Dean Winchester back from the dead,” Becky continues. “And usually that means zombie. You haven’t seen a zombie version of Dean have you? Tall. Spiky hair. Duck lips. Undead.” 

Donna stands in shocked silence, her eyes drifting back towards the little boy on the couch.

“Hello?” Becky asks. 

“Son of a bitch,” Donna snaps. 

“Oi!” Rowena cries. “There’s a wee baby in the room, you watch your language!” 

***** 

Kaia drives Claire’s car, while Garth follows her back to Jody’s, and Sam follows him, with Clare in the passenger’s seat. 

“Just to make sure you don’t chicken out,” Claire tells him as she gets in. 

Sam, for his part, hasn’t eaten in a few days, and has mostly been living on stale coffee and beer. 

He goes through this about once a month. He’ll think he’s getting better. That he can really deal with everything that’s happened, but he’ll inevitably backslide into depression and guilt and grief. The job helps - shelving at the local library here - but not enough.

Not really.

He glances at Claire, and the jacket she’s wearing suddenly makes him feel ill. 

“Where did you get that coat?” 

“Dean’s room in the bunker,” she tells him. “It’s mine now.” 

“It wasn’t even Dean’s,” Sam tells her. “It was our dad’s, and Dean stopped wearing it because he finally realized that being just like John Winchester was a terrible idea.” 

Claire glowers at him. “It’s mine now.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” 

Silence settles over them, and Claire watches the rain out the window as they drive.

“Claire,” Sam says finally. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how all of this went down.” 

“Shove it up your ass,” she tells him. 

Sam goes quiet again after that.   
***** 

It’s easy to slip away from the adults. They’re all arguing over…

Well, they’re arguing. Dean’s not completely sure about what, but he steps out the front door without much notice. 

Sheriff Jody is standing by her truck, arms crossed, looking out at the driveway. 

She looks sad. 

Mommy used to look sad like that sometimes. Like there was nothing for it. 

Dean steps over to her, his little boots crunching in the snow, and Jody glances over at him, her face softening, trying for a smile. 

“Hey, Kiddo,” she says, kneeling down as he reaches her. “It’s cold out. You should go back inside.” 

Dean merely holds his arms out, offering her a hug. 

She takes a breath, and he can tell that she’s trying not to cry (the way Mommy used to try not to cry), and she wraps him up in a big, tight hug, rubbing his back. 

And Dean thinks that this is good.


	6. Chapter 6

Marie vomits maggots ten minutes from their destination, demanding that Becky pull the car over so she can upchuck on the side of the road, and not on the floor mat of the passenger’s seat. 

Becky watches in abject horror. “What kind of spell did you cast?”

“I don’t know,” Marie moans. “It’s in my bag. I just- it seemed like such a good idea at a time.” 

Becky huffs when the other woman shuts the door and keeps driving. “Well...we...we can fix it. We’re going to get help, and we can fix it.” 

“What if we can’t?” Marie asks. “What if I have well and truly boned myself?” 

“We can fix it.” 

“Becky.” 

“We can fix it!” 

***** 

Garth gets there first, stepping inside of Jody’s house and looking around.

Castiel.

Jody.

Donna.

Rowena.

An incredibly small boy, now wrapped in Castiel’s coat.

Garth frowns at all of them. “Uh…”

“It’s Dean,” Donna tells him before anyone else can say anything. “Somebody brought him back as a four-year-old.” 

Garth melts a little. “Aw.” He sobers then. “But also...yikes.” 

“That’s seems right,” Castiel says grimly. 

Garth takes a breath and steps past all of them, sitting next to Dean. “Hey there, buddy. I’m Garth. You doin’ okay?” 

Dean looks up at him and disappears into the tan coat. 

“I don’t know why he likes that thing so much,” Rowena grumbles. “Likely smells like body odor and beeswax.” 

Castiel raises his eyes to the ceiling and takes a deep breath. “Garth, where is Sam?” 

Dean’s little face pops out of the coat quickly, as wild as he looks at all of them at the mention of his brother’s name. 

“Should be right behind me,” Garth tells them. “Kaia and Claire too.” 

“Oh good, no one was murdered in cold blood,” Jody comments. “What did Sam say?” 

“That they stopped God, and then Dean bit it in a way that really makes it seem like Chuck made a deal with a crossroads demon to get his ending.” 

Rowena goes still then, eyes narrowing. “I’ll be back.” 

She’s gone in a blink, and Dean disappears into the coat once more, until the sound of a rumbling engine has him on his feet, coat dropped to the floor.

Donna follows him quickly. “Dean, wait-” 

It’s too late to stop the little boy. He gets to the door, sees the Impala and runs outside.

“Dean!” Donna cries. 

***** 

Sam hears the shout as soon as he turns off the engine, and suddenly, there’s a little boy pearing in at him from the driver’s side window. Small, shaggy blond hair, big eyes. 

It’s every picture Sam has ever seen of his brother as a small child, and he has to swallow down bile before turning to Claire. 

“What the hell is this?” 

“Beats the shit outta me,” Claire snaps as she gets out of the car, Kaia meeting her after parking Claire’s car behind the Impala. 

“Whoa,” Kaia comments. “Is that-?” 

The little boy backs away, obvious fear in his eyes as he sees Sam. 

Jody rushes over them, lifting Dean into her arms. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” 

Sam swings the door open forcefully, bounding over to her. “What the hell, Jody?!” 

“Gee, Sam, it’s great to see you too.” 

“Don’t play games with me! That’s my brother!” 

“Yes, it is,” Jody tells him. 

Sam waits, obviously impatient, obviously angry, for some sort of explanation. 

She takes a breath, still holding Dean tightly in her arms. “Somebody did a spell and brought him back. But as a four-year-old.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Sam mutters, pain and anger etched into his features. “Who was it? Who did it?” 

“It was my friend, here.” 

Sam turns, finding Becky Rosen and that one girl from the Supernatural Musical standing behind them. 

“Hi, Sam,” Becky says quietly, awkwardly. 

“You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” Sam snarls. 

“It wasn’t me this time,” Becky promises, her voice even. “Marie came to me after she did it. She’s been having weird side effects.” 

“We’ll need Rowena to figure this out,” Donna says. “But who the hell knows where she’s gone.”

“Then we’ll just have to figure it out ourselves,” Jody nods. “Everyone inside.” 

***** 

It’s rare for Bela Talbot to be summoned by the Queen of Hell, even if she is the King of the Crossroads now. 

But here she stands, in Hell’s throne room, as Rowena sits in her large, ornate chair, her fingers steepling against its arm. 

“So,” Rowena says slowly. “You granted a deal to Chuck Shurley.” 

Bela’s lips twist into a grins. One that she knows gives away her satisfaction. “Yes, I did.” 

“And it’s played merry havoc on the Winchesters,” Rowena goes on. 

“Always a fun time,” Bela tells her lightly. “They did leave me to die, after all.” 

Rowena rolls her eyes in boredom and disgust. “Aren’t you morons supposed to leave behind your mortal grudges? Isn’t that part of becoming a demon?” 

Bela’s grin dies. “You should be thrilled about this you know,” she argues. “Dean Winchester is dead, and in ten years, the former God will be here, in hell, being tortured for all eternity.” 

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Rowena groans. “Don’t you know anything about anything? Winchesters. Don’t. Stay. Dead. And Dean certainly hasn’t.” 

Bela stays quiet, processing that information. “Wh...what?” 

“Someone did a spell and brought him back,” Rowena tells her, getting to her feet and pacing around the room. “Voiding out your deal, because that’s not the ending that Chuck wanted, was it? Chuck wanted one brother to watch the other die, and then suffer for the rest of his life in guilt and pain. Dean is back. Sam is on his way to see him. This is as far from Chuck’s ending as you can possibly get.”

Bela swallows hard. “That’s not my fault.” 

“I warned you when you started this job,” Rowena reminds her. “That tampering with the Winchesters was a one-way ticket to disappointment and self-destruction, because that’s who those boys have always been. Because God - Chuck - wanted them to be that way. I told you stupid, self-obsessed crossroads demons time and again to stay out of their path. Plenty of other fish in the sea. Plenty of deals to be had and poor saps to swindle out of their souls. But no. You, Bela Talbot, went fishing in the piranha pond.” 

“It was a solid deal!” 

“It wasn’t,” Rowena says simply. “And have no patience for weak, petty little thieves with nothing better to do than try to get a meaningless bit of revenge that was doomed to backfire on them.” 

Bela scoffs, crossing her arms. “So? What will you do? Kill me?” 

Rowena takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “I should. It’s what Fergus would have done. He would have just been rid of you, but then- he liked the boys too much. And in life, I think you did, too.” 

Bela looks away. 

“You get one more chance,” Rowena tells her. 

“What about Chuck Shurley?” Bela asks. 

Rowena shrugs. “Kill him. For all he’s done, he’ll likely go to hell, anyway.”


End file.
